Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Brielle had been holed up at Premier Palace these past few days, keeping a close eye on her film's box office numbers from the comfort of her laptop. With a baby on the way, she found herself drifting off to sleep more often than not, her pregnancy-induced fatigue proving relentless. Deciding to take it easy, she opted to stay put at Premier Palace, her chosen sanctuary for some much-needed prenatal pampering.

Just as she reached for her water glass, her phone buzzed with a new message. The photo that appeared on her screen made her heart skip a beat-it was Tiffanie, bound and gagged.

Tiffanie's eyes were covered with a blindfold, and a gag was crudely shoved into her mouth.

The kidnapper's demands were chillingly simple: Brielle had to come alone if she wanted to see Tiffanie alive. Any attempt to involve others or contact the police would mean certain death for her friend.

Brielle's frown turned into a cold, cynical smile. The kidnapper clearly wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. Walking into their trap would mean doom for Tiffanie, herself, and her unborn child.

The timing, the method-it all reeked of the Dorsey family's involvement. Despite the dire situation, Brielle's mind worked swiftly, piecing everything together with alarming clarity. Without hesitation, she reached out to Max.

Her concern for Tiffanie was genuine, but her pregnancy made her vulnerable. The smartest move was to let Max handle it.

Max's face darkened as he looked at the photo.

"I'll take care of it. You just focus on resting. And ease up on the screen time; it's bad for your eyes," he advised.

Brielle felt a warm glow in her chest. "I will."

Not one to waste time, especially with Tiffanie's life at stake, Max was out the door in a flash.

Brielle spent the next couple of hours lounging in the opulence of Premier Palace, chatting casually with Ramey until sleepiness set in. She grabbed a nearby pillow and dozed off on the plush sofa.

Little did she know, this was exactly what Ramey had been waiting for.

A hypnotist's skill lay in subtlety-inducing sleep without raising suspicion.

Ramey leaned in close, whispering softly into her ear before beginning his questioning.

"Ms. Brielle, do you know someone named Myles?"

Myles-the name of his cousin.NôvelDrama.Org holds text © rights.

In her dreamlike state, Brielle felt as though someone was interrogating her.

Myles? Who's that?

Her conscious mind drew a blank, but an inner voice insisted she had heard the name before. But where?

She struggled against the mental fog, her mind seemingly trapped in an airtight vault, a force pushing back against her attempts to remember.

Her face turned pale, and her lips tightened with stress.

Seeing her distress, Ramey spoke soothingly. "If you can't remember, don't force it. Just relax."

Brielle's expression softened as she sank deeper into sleep.

Ramey retreated to his chair, a deep frown on his face as he jotted down notes. This was just a preliminary test.

He closed his notebook with a sigh

If his cousin had subjected Brielle to deep hypnosis, continuing his

sessions could risk her mentel.

stability.

Hypnosis was all about embedding commands in the mind-if his instructions. clashed with previous ones implanted in Brielle's psyche, the conflicting directives could mentally tear her apart, leaving her confused and potentially damaged.